#Fiddleford absolutely will NOT have that behaviour | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stupidlittlespirit · 1 month ago

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Hey this was the anon who said you made Ford a cutie patootie 🥺🥺

I really agree with the whole 'bill and Ford were never romantic' vibe. I do believe Ford cared for Bill in a way, but Bill in general is also the abusive partner that enjoys having you in his arms and the moment you try to leave will make your life a living hell.

I think that's honestly why I hate most asshole!Ford fics lately. Except for your of course! Society really sees abuses victims horribly and especially men. Theres a pretty big part of the Fandom that vilifies Ford in a hateful way. Like I know he's done horrible and yes he treated Stanley and Fiddleford bad. But I wouldn't be surprised if his father never brought up Stanley after he kicked out, and expected his wife and Ford to follow. He if he did it was only negative talk on how useless he was. Ford was a child at the time and as he grew up he probably missed Stanley but was too prideful to pick up the phone first. And then he met Bill.

Someone who praised him and told him he was in the right no matter what. Yes he was awful to Fiddleford. But that's what abusers do. They tear down everyone else who can help you until it's only the two of you against the entire world. And honestly, I'm sorry but Fiddleford needs to get some hate for just leaving Standford like that. Being a friend to someone in an abusive relationship is awful. But if you know that they don't have anyone else, you have to put boundaries, you don't just leave! But I also can't blame Fiddleford all the way.

Idk idk I'm sorry for rambling, but honestly I think that's why most of the fanfic writers who write about Ford really forget that he was so horrifically abused and when as he got older all he felt was shame and he was alone for 30 years with that feeling.

First of all, sorry it took me so long to answer this! My PC is fucked and I needed to sit my ass down and type out a proper answer for you because I have so many feelings on this, anon.

This is all below a cut because it's looooong.

tl;dr if you don't care: Bill put a noose around Ford's neck the moment they met and convinced him it was a scarf until Ford was hanging from the rafters, feet twitching, face blue.

TW: Abuse, suicide.

Anyway, the kitchen is open so let's cook!

Bill is an absolutely horrific being.

I fear that sometimes (oftentimes) he gets the fandom woobification treatment where he becomes entirely The Meme or somebody's silly widdle guy and when it happens so much, especially when certain groups of people are hellbent on saying 'this is canon!' dead seriously, it warps perceptions around him.

He effectively manipulates his audience just as he manipulated Dipper and Ford.

Bill is a demon. Not just any old demon, either: The Demon. THE guy. He's vicious and powerful and manipulative, and sure in TboB we get to see that he carries some significant trauma with him but it doesn't mean he is any less than what he is: Evil.

Some trauma influenced behaviours can be explained, but they can never be excused.

Bill is a push-pull, hot-cold, jerk around asshole who gets off on hurting people because he's so badly hurt himself that it makes him feel good to see others suffer even a fraction of what he experiences. There are two types of people who go through trauma: 1. It happened to me and I was nearly destroyed, I'll never see it happen to another person for so long as I live. OR 2. I suffered so why shouldn't they?

It's pretty clear which category Bill fits into, right? So, while he hurts because he's hurting, he has also just grown accustomed to enjoying the suffering of others. It's sustenance to him.

I remember watching GF for the first time and seeing Bipper, and it awoke something within me: That demon is torturing a child. A CHILD. I hadn't been allowed to watch horror movies much as a kid and seeing this line be crossed where something was literally throwing a 12 year old boy down the stairs, stabbing him with forks, threatening to kill him, was incredible to me. I was floored.

Partially because I think it's good to show kids suffering trauma; they're not immune and they're more often than not the main victims. It's a disservice to make adults comfortable by protecting the children in media imo. Even nowadays I'm pissed off when the child character escapes unscathed from the 'all knowing totally evil demonic force' in a movie because I still crave that rawness and cruelty I saw in Bipper when I was younger.

But I digress. It's also because here was a being so nasty that he'd play GTA 5 in a kid's body just for funsies and to get something that he wants. He'd bully and torture and tease and humiliate. That's rough, man. Real rough. Especially knowing the kid was watching it all happen, completely helpless.

Anyway; Bill memes are fun, but not at the cost of forgetting just what Bill actually is.

When it comes to Ford, Bill does the same thing we saw with Dipper, except Dipper has morals. Dipper has love and light and people to keep him grounded.

Ford had none of that. Ford was abused, just like Stan (though I could go on for hours about the differences), and grew up equating love to success and respect to fear. He was set up for social failure. He was put on a very different track to his peers almost immediately and he was isolated from everyone bar Stan from the moment he was born. Stan grounded Ford and kept him human.

Ford had no chance right from the start. The equation of being smart, knowing you're smart, and then having people Grima Wormtongue in your ear your whole childhood, when you're most malleable, that you're responsible for lifting your family out of poverty, you're the Good Son, you're meant for more, you're the one we love the most but only because you serve a purpose so you better not fail or we'll snatch everything away from you and you'll be just like your purposeless brother.... And you don't want to be like your loser brother who we hate, do you Fordsy?

He doesn't start lost in the sauce, but his head is held under until he has no choice but to breathe it in, and when someone is drowning it's hard to tell from the shore if they're having fun or if they're in trouble. Nobody noticed his distress and if they did, they didn't care. He was vulnerable right from the start.

And you're right about people hating male abuse victims. The stats are really skewed on the amount because there's such shame around coming out about it as a guy that we'll never really know just how prolific it is. The same as sexual assault stats for men. But what I can say is almost every male friend I've ever had has told me about a partner of theirs or an old relationship that is just plain old black and white abusive. Most of the time, they shrug it off or don't even know that's what they suffered, and if I have to watch the light change in another man's eyes when I gently tell him "hey, you know that what you're telling me is that he/she abused you, right?" then I'm going to scream. They're looked down on for coming out about it; considered weak and less manly for it. Humiliated for it.

Now imagine how it was when Ford was a boy in the 40's (or whenever he was born, there are no solid dates afaik). He'll have been raised to believe men are strong and that they don't cry, they don't let people push them around, mental illness isn't real you're just pathetic. It's everything I just mentioned but 1000x more intense. Nowadays, men are laughed at. Back then, you'd be ostracised and made the joke of the town until you killed yourself.

So poor old Ford, who is already on the back foot, ends up suffering for his genius and throwing himself into his work when it becomes apparent to him that he 'has no other uses' as a person. He isn't funny, he isn't handsome, he's a freak, he can't hold conversations (all his opinions and from others) etc etc. All he has is his research and his brain.

He loses himself in it. In his excitement (which is innocent and genuine by the way, I don't believe he had bad intentions), he drags his best friend along (and we'll get to Fidds in a minute, I have a lotta thoughts on him too) and ignores other people's distress because he's having fun and 'doing the right thing' in his opinion, he's driving innovation and he's always been told by other, more prestigious people that he's justified in his cause.

His father probably enforced at a young age that people that get in his way are just trying to hold him back (ie. Stan), so; If the hillbillies in this damn town don't have the IQ to understand me, then they're idiots. It couldn't possibly be that I might be encroaching on their lives or causing them problems and getting in their way whilst they try to work as labourers or whatever, it's because they're wrong and I'm right.

And of course, there were times when Ford didn't really actually do anything wrong and was met with animosity, but he didn't have the social skills to diffuse the situation and explain himself in layman terms, so it fed into this Ouroboros of try to be nice and social - fail - create friction - get lost in research - create friction - try to be social - fail etc.

So he's not getting socialisation from others, he's pushing Fiddleford as hard as he can and Fiddleford understandably has other interests to balance which makes him slowly seem less invested, and then, conveniently, up pops Bill.

Bill, who agrees with everything Ford says. Bill, who justifies all the thoughts and feelings Ford has ever had. Bill, who tells Ford everything he's ever wanted to hear from his father and his peers and his brother and his wildest dreams.

Bill, who knows how isolation and flattery works to weaken prey.

You have to admit: Bill's work was impressive. He spent a year, maybe even longer, committing to the bit over Ford. Giving him everything he wanted, feeding his ego, making it seem like all he was doing was helping him and encouraging him and propping him up.

Ford had had a weak form of that before from other people, but those people were parasites. Bill presented as the host and he offered Ford a crutch for the first time in his life. A friend, an equal, possibly someone of even higher standing.

And Ford, who has NO social skills, no street smarts, no emotional awareness, had no idea that nothing comes for free from somebody like Bill, so he jumped into the shallow pool from the 100 meter board with both feet down, eyes shut and hands off the wheel. Ford was desperate for someone to meet him on his level and the moment somebody did, he let himself be swept away by it.

Which, of course, was Bill's plan all along. Bill had probably always been around Ford when he'd first come to Gravity Falls. He'd been watching and waiting for the right time to strike, as ambush predators do, and the moment Ford had stumbled on a metaphorical crack in the path and exposed a weak spot, up pops Bill to hold his hand and tell him that the pavement was in the wrong the whole time and really, Ford shouldn't have to look where he's putting his feet, the whole world should just move for him instead.

From there, it would have been easy.

I think Ford likes to think he's complex and hard to read, and he probably is to people who don't recognise his type, but he's a fucking picture book to the people that do. That's why he works so hard to make himself seem cool and mysterious: because he's really obviously none of those things but simple smoke and mirrors go a long way to confuse people who don't care to look any deeper or are too naïve to do so. If people see the real him, they'd laugh at him (in his opinion).

So Bill, with all his flattery and gassing up, would have let Ford think the ball was in his court for a while, and Ford, emboldened by lies and a literal god-like being telling him he was right (plus everyone else from his past telling him the same thing), got bolder and more intense and lost himself without even really realising it was happening.

Ford, in his enthusiasm, pressed on Fidds even harder and was disappointed that the only man he cared about (other than his brother, because we know he still loved Stan dearly) wasn't able to match his stride. After all, I think Ford probably thought Fidds was the closest thing to an equal he'd ever had, and Bill used Fidds' hesitation to push Ford further away from him.

Once Ford was fully blinded, Bill began to cut off the blood to the other parts of Ford's lifeforce (and there weren't many to begin with) with delicate expertise that even the most prolific of abusers would die to achieve.

And don't forget that Bill also loves attention (he's a genuine egotistical maniac, whereas I don't think Ford is inherently egotistical, I think he's a product of his environment) and Ford gave him that unconditionally because Ford thought that blind worship equates to love, which is only possible through fear and forced, submissive respect. By cutting off Ford's other connections, Bill got all the attention to himself.

That's where the fun part started for Bill. Bill started to make him second guess himself. He tricked him under the guise of helping and then, without Fidds to ground him, Ford bought into all of it. He told Ford the townsfolk hated him because he was better than them, he told Ford he was too good for everyone else, his brother, etc. Bill effectively became Filbrick's voice in Ford's head. He needed to control Ford.

People think 'seduction' is inherently sexual or romantic, but it isn't. Seduction is manipulation in its purest form. Seduction is negative. It is used to pull people away from their path in order to convince them to give up or go against the part of themselves that knows better. It lowers one's guard. It gets under someone's skin and convinces them it belongs there. I've been a sex worker for 10 years; trust me when I tell you I have a PhD in both doing this and being victim to it. (I'm also an abuse survivor and my abusers trained me well in this which is hard to unlearn at times.)

Bill seduced Ford into thinking he was safe and in control right up until the last moment when Bill could strike. He put a noose around Ford's neck the moment they met and convinced him it was a scarf until Ford was hanging from the rafters, feet twitching, face blue.

Ford was never in love with him and Bill wasn't with Ford. You can't be in a situation like that. Ford respected Bill and to command the respect of someone like Ford? Well, you'd have to be pretty special, in Ford's opinion.

Bill only wanted to possess Ford, literally and figuratively. He wanted something to control and use and keep as a pet while he got what he wanted. Every king needs a jester.

There are signs that Bill also, deep down, might have wanted a friend and to be understood in the same way Ford did, but it was a small part of him that came second to his desire to hurt. Bill was also an outcast and he knew how vulnerable that makes a person; why else are all his henchmaniacs outcasts too? Because it's easy to persuade a person with no support into a perceived 'found family' than it is to do it to someone who is grounded by love. It becomes a game of in-group out-group.

Ford saying no to Bill would have taken great strength after all that time and as soon as Bill doesn't get what he wants, he destroys. It would have been an immediate punishment and that whiplash would have been vicious.

Ford, with no real friends, would have considered Bill his bestie, effectively.

Now, idk if you've ever been betrayed by someone you love as a best friend, but it is INFINITELY more painful than a regular breakup. Like, impossibly so. Especially when you don't have many to begin with and you're already damaged by abuse.

My love for my best friends runs deeper than any romantic partner I have ever had and will ever have. To be betrayed (and for me, it was seriously significant) was the worst feeling in the world and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I attempted suicide (conflated by other things but also because of this friend betraying me) and I will never get over their betrayal. I am wary of getting close to others now because of that and I don't think I'd ever be friends with someone so intimately again, beyond the best friend I have currently (shout out @/ghostbu, i love u).

So to experience a rug pull of astronomical proportion would have been devastating for Ford. We see Ford try to leave, try to say no again and again, literally begging, only to have his life threatened, his body violated, his work destroyed, his entire existence made into nothing. Which is a hard enough fall for someone with a big ego, but for someone who is also vulnerable and frankly, quite very emotional alongside being intelligent, would be gutting. Some people miss Ford's emotionality and reduce him to being The Smart Guy and I think that's a disservice.

So Ford was utterly ripped to shreds, both physically and emotionally, until he could only turn to the person he knew would still come running: Stan.

Stan adores his brother, so of course he came when Ford clicked his fingers. Ford, I think, also adores Stan, but is so manipulated by everybody else in his life that he convinces himself that his emotions do him a disservice and make him weak (as mentioned before about old attitudes), so he can't 'lower' himself to examine them. Bill doesn't help with that, either.

Stan came running and we all know what happened next.

Ford then spends 30 years NOT being the smartest guy in the room and realising he never really was the smartest guy in the room outside of academia. That kind of ego death is brutal and he would have gone through some incredible soul searching in that time period, which is why I think there are several versions of Ford that exist. Childhood/College!Ford, Research-era!Ford and Post portal!Ford. They all different men to me, personally.

So yeah, he's a deeply difficult character to understand imo and he's often a paradox because he doesn't know how to hold all these emotions in tandem; he's black and white, not grey.

Now, onto Fidds:

You gotta remember, Fidds had no idea what Bill was doing to his beloved friend.

Ford kept him a secret because in his view (a view manipulated by Bill), 'they'd never understand us. They'd separate us'. A common sentiment by people being abused. 'They' being really anybody with half a brain who saw how dangerous Bill was and cared about Ford.

Fidds was already absolutely terrified by the stuff he was seeing. My guy grew up on a pig farm in the country, he wasn't prepared for all this stuff to be real. Even Ford didn't know the supernatural was provably real before he came to Gravity Falls.

Now, I love cryptids but if I came across a dogman or bigfoot in real life, I'd fucking shit myself. They're scary! They'll kill you!

He also saw his best friend fucking lose his mind and that's really frightening too, especially with no one around to help.

Fidds had people that loved him back home (and I know he wasn't great to them, that's a different kettle etc) and relied on him. He had a life outside of his research; a son, a wife, a family and probably other friends. He had something to lose. If he died, it would have an effect.

Ford was cavalier because the only thing he thought he had to lose at that point was his work (not true, of course, but in head I think his life came second to his work).

Fiddleford was a victim of Ford's unintentional abuse. And Ford did abuse people, even if he was also being abused. The cycle of abuse is, unfortunately, very very real and it can't be justified just because someone who inflicts it was also a victim: Manson was abused, but no one excuses his crimes.

Explanation, not excuse, remember?

I think Ford was turned into a bad person temporarily and Fidds bore the brunt of that and went on to neglect his own family because he was also being isolated by Ford.

It's so fucking tragic and I could go on for hours about this (I already have, this took me two hours to write). They're really complex people and it does frustrate me when people pooh-pooh them as silly yaoi babies or as just plain bad people. It's never that simple.

And disclaimer: Everyone is entitled to their interpretations, obviously. They're not my characters and this is my own interpretation, so it isn't 'right', it's just how I see them as somebody who experienced similar things as Ford and Stan (minus the literal demonic element).

Whew sorry for rambling!

#ford pines #stanford pines #gravity falls #fiddleford mcgucket #stan pines #stanley pines #bill cipher #billford #technically i suppose #*me visibly shaking with tears in my eyes* yeah i just think they're neat #if you disagree then that's fine but I'll stand over this opinion with a rusty shorn off #ford asks

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proseandsongs · 8 years ago

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I Can’t Be Without You

Wishing the happiest of birthdays to the lovely, kind, talented @emberglows! I am so privileged to be your friend, and as a sign of thanks/celebration of your birthday, I’ve written a Fiddlestan fic! I really hope you enjoy it. Happy birthday, love!! <3

“This is stupid.” Stan plucked at the bright red bowtie around his neck and grimaced at his reflection.

His niece swooped in and slapped his hands away. “Don’t touch it! You’ll ruin it.”

Stanley sighed and tugged at his suit jacket to banish the wrinkles. The suit was brand new and snug in the shoulders, but Mabel had refused to let him wear his Mystery Shack suit because it smelled like mothballs and formaldehyde. Stan had suspicions that Fiddleford was immune to the scent due to his work with Stanford, but he didn’t argue. He only put his foot down when Mabel suggested glitter hairspray to keep his hair in place. His hair was hard as a helmet with all the gel; it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Pumpkin, I don’t know about this. This seems a bit too…fancy. I’m just going out with Fiddleford.”

“Yeah, for your anniversary!” Mabel brushed back a stray hair from her Grunkle’s forehead and beamed at him in the mirror. After a few summers of growth spurts, Mabel now stood at her Grunkle’s shoulder, which meant she could now pick at him whenever she wanted. However, the careful adjustments – straightening a crooked tie, swiping at a smudge on his glasses with her sleeve, flattening a cowlick – were appreciated.

Mabel giggled in excitement and added, “I can’t believe you’ve been dating for a whole year!”

Stan swallowed hard as he grimaced at his reflection. “Me either.”

The whole thing was a bit strange. He had never predicted – never could have predicted – how the summer after their journey on the Stan o’ War would go.

After spending nearly a year alone in his mansion, with weekly visits from his son, Tate, Fiddleford had grown lonely. Despite his regular correspondence with Stanford as he travelled the world, Fiddleford sought company. Which is why, when Stanley and Stanford returned to Gravity Falls for summer vacation, Fiddleford proposed that they move into his mansion. There was far more space than at the Mystery Shack where Soos and now Melody lived, and Fiddleford practically shoved his Southern hospitality down their throats. They couldn’t say no.

It was Fiddleford’s odd colloquialisms and erratic behaviour that made Stan fret about staying in the mansion. Once they moved in, he was surprised to see Stanford was just as happy working with Fiddleford in his lab as they had been on the ocean. Even more surprising: Stanley was enjoying himself, too. It wasn’t because of the Olympic swimming pool in the backyard (although that didn’t hurt) or the silverware he had pawned shortly after moving in: it was because Fiddleford was so kind. The man who had suffered homelessness, abandonment, and poverty for thirty years couldn’t stop giving. He donated to the children’s program at the library, the senior’s residence, and drew up blueprints for a year-round homeless shelter that was now under construction.

In addition to Fiddleford’s generosity and success as an engineer, Stanley had been startled by his great sense of humour. The first time he heard Fiddleford sass Stanford, he laughed himself into stitches. That had been the first time Fiddleford’s grin had brought heat into his face, although he was quick to blame this on the laughter.

Stanley got to know Fiddleford, to the point where they could have long conversations without the intervention of Stanford. He was sleeping more now, and would often doze while Stanley and Fiddleford spoke; no doubt catching up on thirty years of sleep deprivation. The more Stanley spoke to Fiddleford, the more smitten he became, to the point that even Dipper and Mabel could tell there was something suspicious going on. Stanley dodged the questions, but he couldn’t avoid the unfamiliar pull Fiddleford had on him.

Soon the evening soaks in the pool with just the two of them – Stanford claimed it was unsanitary – turned into long conversations that stretched until the moon was at its highest. Those chats turned into heart-pounding flirting sessions, where Stanley didn’t know up from down and couldn’t determine whether Fiddleford was reciprocating, or merely being polite.

He got the hint one evening near the end of the summer when, in response to a blatant come-on, Fiddleford shot him with an exasperated look and blurted, “Stanley Pines, if you don’t steel your gut and kiss me silly, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you!”

He obliged, of course, and proceeded to kiss Fiddleford silly – that is until Stanford burst onto the scene with a ceptopod latched onto his ear.

Stanley had been mortified, but all Stanford said was, “It’s about time,” before he started gushing about his newest finding.

How far they had come from that uncertain night, both embarrassing and sweet; now he stood in front of a mirror, dressed to the nines by his niece and set to take his partner for a great dinner for their anniversary. Anniversary. He had never expected anyone to stick around that long.

Stan smiled at his reflection and admired Mabel’s styling. “Nice work, kid.”

He ruffled her hair and grinned at her little squawk of surprise. With a laugh, Stan pulled open his dresser drawer and scooped up a small black box. It fit in his suit coat pocket without leaving a suspicious lump. Good; it was better if he didn’t see it coming.

“I’ve gotta get going. You know how Fidds gets about being late.”

“The only people excused from punctuality are the dead, Stanley,” Mabel recited in an on-point imitation of Fiddleford.

“Yeah yeah, you little gremlin,” Stan said as he ruffled her hair again.

Much like his niece, nephew, and brother, Fiddleford was strange.

Stanley had always had a soft spot for strange.

If the waiter didn’t interrupt him soon to take their order, Stan was positive he was going to drown himself with all the water he was drinking. The truth was he was so nervous he could hardly form a sentence, and sweating buckets to boot.

Fiddleford must have noticed, because he paused in the middle of his story about the director’s meeting he had earlier that day to ask, “Are you alright, Stanley?”

His brow was furrowed behind his spectacles, and the genuine concern made Stanley’s mouth go dry. He guzzled the last of his glass of water and set it down with gusto.

“Yeah, of course!”

He hoped that Fiddleford hadn’t heard the crack in his voice. He adjusted his suit coat to hide the steadily growing sweat stains with a bit of embarrassment.

When Stanley looked up at Fiddleford, he was torn between admiration and a deep feeling of inadequacy. Fiddleford was fresh and crisp in a simple grey suit and purple tie. The small white rose that decorated the lapel of his jacket matched his newly trimmed beard, fluffy and bright.

Next to his handsome partner, Stan felt like an absolute mess.

Stan must have stared too long, because Fiddleford frowned at him again and looked like he was about to question him again. Eager for a distraction, Stanley craned his neck and said gruffly, “Where’s that waiter? I’m getting ready to eat my hand.”

At Stan’s complaint, a few disapproving looks turned their way. However, Fiddleford was mild when he replied, “I’m sure he’ll be by soon. In the meantime…”

When Fiddleford unexpectedly reached across the table to hold Stanley’s hand, he jumped a bit. Stan met his partner’s eyes and was relieved to see they were soft, like his smile. It was enough to make him relax under Fiddleford’s touch.

“Stanley, tonight is very important to me, and I’m so glad I get to spend it together,” Fiddleford began. “And I – I just wanted to say thank you.”

Stan was surprised. “Eh? What for?”

Fiddleford gave Stanley’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I want to thank you for being so understanding these last few months. I know I’ve been off negotiating with a bunch of stiff coats almost every day this month about patenting and selling my inventions, but you’ve been so good about our time apart. It’s been difficult navigating all the corporate mazes, but being able to talk to you at the end of the day makes it all worthwhile.”

Stanley sniffled and blinked a couple times to rid his eyes of the sting. He chuckled to hide the fact that his throat was tight with emotion and caressed the inside of Fiddleford’s thumb with his own. “You’re one of the best parts of my day, too. I…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Fiddleford insisted with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The words struck Stanley to the core, and he felt a surge of courage. His hand fell to the box in his pocket.

“I’m glad you said that,” Stanley said, his voice stilted as he pulled his hand away. On shaking legs, Stanley stood and took a step around the table, much to Fiddleford’s bemusement. As he dipped his hand into his pocket, Stanley added, “It’ll make it a whole lot easier to do this.”

While Stan lowered himself slowly to one knee, he pulled the box out of his pocket and was met with a gasp. Fiddleford had clapped a hand over his mouth and was staring at him, wide-eyed with shock. The adrenaline of the moment pushed Stanley to speak in a rush.

“Will you marry me?”

He popped open the box to reveal the simple gold band filigreed with patterns that resembled the circuit boards that Fiddleford often worked on when he needed to get over a mental block.

Fiddleford blinked once, twice, and then whispered, “Stanley–”

“Look, I know it’s a bit sudden, after only a year,” Stan blurted; he was flushing like a fiend. “But a couple of old farts like us don’t have time to waste. I want to make an honest man of you, and it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t do it properly. You never know how much time you have with someone; I wish I had learned that sooner, but it’s not too late for us. If I didn’t ask you this, I don’t know how I could live with myself.”

Stan blinked back a few tears and cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine being without you, and I don’t want to be, ever. I’m here with you until the end, if you’ll have me.”

He held his breath as he waited for Fiddleford’s response. Teary eyed, his partner let out a breathless “Yes, Stanley,” and proceeded to shower kisses all over his forehead and cheeks. With a grin, Stan slid the ring onto Fiddleford’s finger and caught him with a quick kiss on the lips. Applause rose from the other restaurant goers and wait staff as they broke apart, and Stanley whipped around with a half-hearted scowl.

“Nosy jerks. How’s a guy supposed to propose with a bunch of snoops?” he muttered with a glare at the rowdy bunch of college-age students pounding the table and chanting “Kiss! Kiss!”

“Stanley,” Fiddleford brought him back with a soft word and a dopey smile, “this is a lovely moment, please don’t ruin it.”

“All I’m saying is that they could at least pretend not to look–”

“Stanley.”

He sighed. “Alright, alright. It doesn’t matter, anyway. All that matters is you said yes.”

Fiddleford smiled again. “That I did.”

When their lips met again to a chorus of cheers, Stanley didn’t care about the noise. He only had eyes for his fiancé and hope for the life they would build together.

#fiddlestan #stanley x fiddleford #emberglows #prosefic

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